


Finally

by venomPunk



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: F/M, Loneliness, Sad Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:36:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27697726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomPunk/pseuds/venomPunk
Summary: Booker is alone, but the visitor will find her way.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Booker | Sebastien le Livre
Kudos: 10





	Finally

_Did I know I was making the worst mistake of my life? I didn't care. And as for the mistakes - I really made the biggest one when I came from Russia back home._

_I was a fool. I hung on the gallows for three days and three nights, cunning enough to play dead while the army left. But not wise enough to give up my life. Frostbite hurts. Hunger hurts. Miles and miles of desolate land hurt. Death doesn't hurt - at least not your own._

_I returned home - and watched them die. I didn't have enough courage to leave them. I clung desperately to the last piece of love they were able to give me, sucking them like a voracious leech until they were left with a sense of betrayal and decay, until they shouted into my eyes that I was selfish. They were right - I was selfish. And as it turns out, this is a quality that will be hard to get rid of for centuries._

_I saw them, the very first night, with a hemp rope around my neck. I saw affection and love (Nicky, Joe), madness (Quynh) and endless sadness and fatigue (Andy). Friendship. I felt torn between a real life that didn't belong to me a long time ago and something else - something that controlled my dreams and yet it seemed real._

_I was trying to kill myself, of course. And not just once. Until they found me, I knew the taste of arsenic, what it was like to bleed in an old tin tub, what it felt like when your heart is pierced by a bayonet. Eventually I stopped trying and tried to stay in a state of constant intoxication. It just allowed me to forget, to dispel my thoughts like the ashes of long-dead relatives._

_It was naive to think that if I wanted to, I would never come across them in those hundred years of punishment. I knew about all the safe houses. I could contact Copley. But I understand what the gesture was supposed to mean. I respected their desire not to see me. But what I was most sorry about was Andy - not that I was surprised. Me,_ _born under a lucky star_ _– could I have expected something other than the fact that Andy's life would end just as I tried (unsuccessfully) to end mine?_

Abandoned villa in northern Italy, end of January. It was white everywhere, trees like dead stumps, dusting snow and ubiquitous fog. The interior of the huge house is as frozen as the courtyard, outbuildings and neglected garden. It's falling apart, but it hasn't occurred to him yet that his time is long gone - _a convenient home for someone like me_ , I thought bitterly when I came here a few months ago. The frescoes depicting joyful baroque scenes are chipped, the colors have long since lost their vividness. The marble staircase is crumbling, the iron is rusting. Water was constantly dripping somewhere, but when the frost came, it stopped. Finally silence.

My abode is the only room that once served as a sumptuous salon - I saw such, during the Empire, people indulged in upholstery, oil paintings, live flowers, opulent dinners and deep-sighted debates ... now everything was dusty and dull. I slept on a bed that I had moved here from a less cozy room at the end of the hall - the wood was eaten away by woodworms, but the mattress lost nothing in comfort. In addition, I had a table under the window, a chair, and a few piles of books. I sealed the shutters against the wind with rags and the fireplace and chimney were functional, so I did not suffer from the cold - the wood was provided by a nearby forest, which was once a park for the pleasure and relaxation of the former lordship. For the pleasure and relaxation of the _present lordship_ , mostly cheap Italian wine was served. I didn't have the slightest plan. I cringed here, hoping it would pass. Vain hopes.

One white morning, on a nameless day, I bit _El Cid_ when I heard something. It was an old house, beside me there used to be a lot of mice, bats and anything that wanted to hide from bad weather. However, I had my ears fully trained when it came to unwanted visitors. I slowly closed the book and picked up my weapon - while I was still sitting in a chair in front of the fireplace, I made no sign that I had noticed anything. The only door to this room is creaking - _if he wants to try something, he has to do it quickly ..._ _  
  
_

However, they opened quite calmly, slowly. It was as if the visitor was ashamed to look into them.

"You knew that it wouldn't last," she whispered as I clasp her in my arms. Strange how fragile she looks now - heretical thoughts come to me _, I could close her throat now, and if I lasted long enough, it would be the end of her_. Strange, though? I've always been a little insane. Instead, I just nod, caress her hair, her neck, her back. I have no doubt why he's here.

I could ask her the question, why _now?_ Why didn't she reach for me in one of those nights when she was looking for solace with strangers, men and women from all continents, why didn't she free me from this hell while she still had some time ahead? Why am I being tortured right now? The questions all flew out the window as she pulled back a little, her cheek sliding down my cheek until her lips met mine.

_Aha - despair. That´s it. Welcome aboard, dear friend._

I unzipped her jacket, take it off, still immersed in her eyes. Jacket was followed by a sweater and T-shirt, then my clothes.

  
I run my fingers over the scar on her side. I won't say "sorry." She knows how sorry I am, otherwise she wouldn't be here. Regret led me to this hell. And she came here to see me.

He closes my face in his palms - they are dry, rough and cold, just like eternity. Shee leans his forehead against mine, as she had done many times before, a friendly gesture, a sign of togetherness.

A kiss follows, urgent, conquering, slips into my mouth and I exhale though my nose. Didn't I imagine it, at least a thousand times? What was promised came here - a sweet forgetfulness. For the first time, the constant feeling that had driven me to self-destruction had evaporated from my head - no, now it had been replaced by a completely different instinct. I bent down and lifted her so she could hug me with her strong thighs, squeeze my hips between them, _crush me_ like a wallnut shell.

The bed creaks when we fall into it and a layer of dust falls from its head. For the first time since I lie in it, I don't feel decay and mold, but only honey, spices and _blood_. I don't know if it's mine or hers. She has a smudge on her lips- I'll notice that when I break away for a while so I can take off her pants. I wipe the blood with my fingers and want to believe, at least for a moment, that everything is fine, that _she will heal_ , as a thousand and a million times before. She doesn't notice it, it undresses me of the last pieces of my clothes, despite the cold, I feel sweat running down my back. I shiver and after many years I finally feel life inside me.

When I slip into her, she won't say anything - she just closes her eyes, digs her face into my shoulder and fingers into my forearms, and exhales. I'd like to convince myself that I heard my name ... not a nickname _, my real name_. I would like it to be different, to be able to control myself, to show her what I have learned in all the brothels from Paris to Kiev and not yet have forgotten. I would like to taste the irony taste of her juices, make her moan, process her like the finest cream ... but these are just my barren ideas. I know what she wants from me- to fuck her. Nothing more.

I will fulfill her wish, I will exert all my strength on it, I will grip her hips as I get to my knees and her body stretches out in front of me like an frozen moor. I´m penetrating her, it's raw, rough - and she knows when I'm near the climax, she opens her eyes and in one smooth motion I find myself on my back. The illusion of domination dissolves - she slows down, tortures me and she likes it. I don't blame her – I like it too.

When her movements become ragged and she tilts her head, I dare to sit up and hug her waist. I know that at this moment she is weak, she will not pull me away, she will let me sink my face into the skin under her breasts, now wonderfully warm. Suddenly I don't care if I came, this is the most beautiful feeling when she hugs me, breathes deeply, when I hear her heart. After a moment that seems like a century (and I know what I'm talking about), I dare to raise my head and look up. A smile plays around her mouth. I can feel her muscles tightening down around me. Andy never left anyone in the lurch, she is not like me. Slowly rises and falls again, so slowly that it seems like the movement of an iceberg. _I did it - to get that little tenderness from her so that I wouldn't go crazy ... it breaks my heart, but I feel alive while she slowly dies._

She slides smoothly on me like a bird of prey above the water. My gaze is blurred, the bowels are constricted, my eyes cling to her, I sink into the depths, into the darkness and into the void.  
  


Finally.


End file.
